Eyes the Color of Ireland
by rhettrocksmyworld
Summary: This story takes place after the events of Scarlett, the novel by Alexandra Ripley. Read and review!
1. Chapter 1

**Finally back. This story was on fanfiction a while back, and is now making a hopefully new and improved reappearance. I've been trying to go back and edit mistakes, adding things here and there. The plot should be developed much, much more than it was previously. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the brilliant Margaret Mitchell's characters/places/etc…oh, and I don't own Alexandra Ripley's stuff either. **

**Whiskey Lullaby**

**Allison Krauss and Brad Paisley**

_**She put him out, like the burning end of a midnight cigarette. She broke his heart. He spent his whole life trying to forget. We watched him drink his pain away a little at a time, but he never could get drunk enough to get her off his mind until the night he put that bottle to his head and pulled the trigger, and finally drank away her memory. Life is short, but this time it was bigger than the strength he had to get up off his knees. We found him with his face down on the pillow with a note that said I'll love her til I die, and when we buried him beneath the willow, the angels sang a whiskey lullaby. La la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la. The rumors flew, but nobody knew how much she blamed herself for years and years, she tried to hide the whiskey on her breath she finally drank her pain away a little at a time but she never could get drunk enough to get him off her mind until the night she put that bottle to her head and pulled the trigger and finally drank away his memory life is short but this time it was bigger than the strength she had to get up off her knees. We found her with her face down in the pillow clinging to his picture for dear life. We laid her next to him beneath the willow while the angels sang a whiskey lullaby. La la la la la. La la la la la la la.**_

**_Chapter 1 of_ _Eyes the Color of Ireland_**

Rhett walked briskly through the small town of Ballyhara. He passed several quaint buildings, but he paid them no heed. His thoughts were cluttered, and for the first time in his life he had no plan. For the first time, his heart had beaten his brain; he emotionally needed Scarlett. He needed her stubbornness, her emerald eyes, her temper—he needed everything about her, even though his mind knew what she was to him—poison. They would fight, and Rhett sought solace through whiskey. Through most of his marriage to Scarlett, Rhett often considered whiskey to be his best friend. The whiskey didn't ask him questions he had no answers to, didn't bubble with hateful words, and didn't make him feel the cowardice he was sure was there, it simply eased the pain. Knowing all this, Rhett only really knew one thing: he loved her.

"What am I doing here?" he wondered. "Did I honestly think I could just waltz into her life as I did so many years ago and confess my undying love for her? She'll shoot me down like a rabid dog, and then leave me for the vultures."

Scarlett puttered around her small cottage looking for her hairbrush. She didn't know why she still bothered with her hair, looks were of no importance to her anymore.

"The Irish love me for me; for being hardworking and hardheaded." She also knew that the real reason she had stopped being so preoccupied with her appearance was that no matter how hard she tried, she would never be able to get anyone to focus on anything but her protruding stomach. Eight months pregnant really was too late in her pregnancy to be out checking on her workers anyway, especially considering how badly she wanted—no, needed—this baby. It was her lifeline, what kept her going, trudging on day after day, and she couldn't wait to meet her hero, or heroine, she reminded herself, face to face. This baby was her last tie to Rhett, her one and only love, and she would not mess it up as she had all other things concerning Rhett. She had destroyed their life together, and there was no going back to it now. There was just nothing left there. She had to start over, and this baby was giving her the perfect opportunity.

As he ventured further into the town, the small buildings became further apart, and he was able to recognize that most of them were now houses. He had no clue how he was supposed to go about finding Scarlett. He didn't want to ask anyone for the risk that they might alert Scarlett to his presence before he himself could. He decided he'd have to approach every house he came to until he found Scarlett. Hopefully she wasn't far away. Rhett stopped at the first cottage he came to, a small, charming little home, and knocked on the door.

"What the hell am I doing?" he thought to himself. "I suppose I'll just say to her: 'Hello, Scarlett. I've come to tell you that I've divorced Anne, and I still love you. Sorry for probably giving you the biggest shock of your life. Truce?" Yes, that would all go over very well.

The door was opened by a middle-aged woman with a mop of red hair and a belly bigger than the town drunkard's. This was definitely not Scarlett.

"Pardon me, ma'am, I seem to have the wrong address," he said simply, tipping his hat and turning around swiftly. Maybe once he did this twenty times or so he'd find her. After several more disappointments, he came to a cottage nowhere near as homey and lived-in as the others he had been to. The outside held no garden or charming little plants; it was simply painted an ugly white, and had one grimy window.

"Not Scarlett's," he thought to himself, but for some odd reason he found himself reaching out and knocking on the door. Perhaps it was habit. His knocks received no answer. He gently turned the doorknob, expecting to find it locked. When it turned easily in his hand, he looked down in surprise, but walked slowly in anyway. His sharp eyes took in the sparsely furnished two room house. He assumed he was in the kitchen, given the table made of what looked like scraps of leftover wood and one wobbly looking chair, not to mention the stove. He saw a pair of work boots by the door—women's, he could tell by the small size, and a calendar hung on the wall marked with 'X's.

Still convinced he could not possibly be in Scarlett's dwelling, he turned to leave when something gold glittering on the kitchen table caught his eye. Leaning closer, he let out a small gasp.

**So doncha just wanna know what happens next? I do. And guess what? You can find out for the easy price of just one review! That's right, not $19.99 like most infomercials, just one review! Haha, just kidding…sort of. It'll be updated quicker if you review, though. :-D So what'd you think? Lemme know :-D**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thanks to all of my _wonderful _reviews. And reviewers. You guys seriously don't know (unless you yourself are a writer) how much the reviews mean…before I wrote I never would have understood how much feedback means. It's great. Certainly brightens my day. So if you feel like you're in the mood to brighten up my day, do a little good deed and review when you're done! **

**Disclaimer: I own nada. Nothing. Zilch. You get the drift. **

**Hope you like this chapter…review por favor. Please. :-D**

"**Unburn All Our Bridges" **

**Josh Turner**

_**I miss you so much I don't know what to do**_

_**Can't bear the thought of my life without you**_

_**Please baby, let's unburn all our bridges**_

_**Whatever it was that tore us apart**_

_**Can surely be healed with forgiving hearts**_

_**Please baby, let's unburn all our bridges**_

_**Tempers were lost, emotions ran high**_

_**Feelings were wounded on the night of goodbye**_

_**We said some things we didn't mean**_

_**That wasn't you baby, that wasn't me**_

_**I still love you**_

_**I will till I die, and love is much stronger than anger or pride**_

_**Please baby, let's unburn all our bridges**_

_**Tempers were lost**_

_**Emotions ran high**_

_**Feelings were wounded on the night of goodbye**_

_**We said some things we didn't mean**_

_**That wasn't you baby, that wasn't me**_

_**That wasn't you baby, that wasn't me**_

_**I still love you I will till I die, and love is much stronger than anger or pride**_

_**Please, baby, let's unburn all our bridges**_

_**Please, baby, let's unburn all our bridges**_

"Oh, God's nightgown," Scarlett cried, looking down and realizing she had forgotten her ring. She wore it on a necklace since her fingers had become too swollen due to her pregnancy for it to fit. It was her engagement ring from Rhett, and was one of her most prized possessions. "And I left the door unlocked, too. Why just anybody could walk in, leave with my ring, and be hundreds richer!" she couldn't help but think. Her feet were aching anyways; they too were swollen, and going home and dipping them in a nice pail of warm water seemed very tempting. Turning in the other direction, she headed back home.

After several minutes of walking through the lush Irish lands, she reached her little house, and let out a sigh of relief. She happened to love her little home. It didn't hold the same kind of appeal that her Peachtree House had—actually, come to think of it, her Peachtree House hadn't exactly held much appeal at all. It certainly wasn't warm or welcoming due to its sheer size and flamboyant décor. She liked this one because it was small, and it served its purpose. She could live in it without worrying about the frivolous things that she once considered necessity. She couldn't help but think of it as a metaphor for her own new life.

She swung the door open, but immediately stopped dead in her tracks. Rhett Butler was sitting at her kitchen table, here out in the middle of Ireland, and was toying with her ring. It was enough to make any woman faint, which after letting out a loud gasp, she did.

"Oh my God," Rhett cried, seeing Scarlett fall in a heap on the rough floor. Between pushing his chair back so fast that it fell over backwards and running over to her, he had failed to notice her pregnancy. He bent down to pick her up and got a nasty shock when his once feather-like bride now weighed at least thirty pounds more than she had on their last encounter. It was his turn to let out an, "Oh my God," when he realized the cause of her excess weight.

Putting his present shock aside, Rhett scooped Scarlett up into his arms, which was no longer an easy feat, and walked towards the small doorway he assumed led to a bedroom of some sort. Correct in his assumption, beyond the door lay a cramped bedroom, containing a four poster bed, by far the nicest piece of furniture in the cottage. He approached the bed and gently laid Scarlett on top of the plain bedspread. What was he going to do? He had dealt with fainting women before, but never ones who happened to be pregnant, as Scarlett quite obviously was. He supposed he would just go about it in a normal way and see what would happen. Gently slapping her pale cheeks, he called her name over and over.

"Scarlett, Scarlett…"

She was falling. Falling farther and faster than she had ever fallen before. The sensation was overwhelming. Fear paralyzed her body; she could scarcely breathe. Sitting up and gasping for air, Scarlett was only dimly aware of her surroundings. Where was she? She was on a bed, and a man was leaning over her. He was tall, dark, and handsome, and his eyes were practically alive with emotions. Who was this man? It couldn't be Rhett! He wasn't here in Ireland, that was preposterous. Scarlett inhaled sharply, beginning to remember what had happened. She was walking into her cottage, when the sight of Rhett caused her to faint.

As if reading her mind, Rhett lightly joked, "I had no idea my mere presence was enough to make you faint, Scarlett."

She recognized the comment for what it was—a statement of relief masked by humor. Now that she had regained consciousness, two could play this game.

"Yes, Mr. Butler, you sent my heart a flutter. Seems as if it's been a while since we last…met." How could she lightly phrase such important words? The last time they met? The last time they had _met_, they had made the very child inside of her.

The baby! Rhett knows! Does he know it's his? Oh dear God, what if she had hurt the baby when she fell? Why had she fainted anyway? She was never one to faint. She had poked fun of the silly girls, now women, that she had grown up with for carrying smelling salts constantly—she simply _did not_ faint. She had to know about the baby. Worry would eat her alive. If she lost this baby…no, she wouldn't consider it. It would tear her apart. The baby was her only tie to Rhett. Except that for now he was here in Ireland. Why was he here? She had to stop this inner questioning. The tormenting wonder of the baby's health was already beginning to tear her apart and she had only just regained consciousness. She would make her way to a doctor in a larger town as soon as she could, but hopefully Rhett could put her mind at east for the moment. Her voice, no longer joking, had taken on a panicked lilt. "Rhett, did I…do you think…what if…?" She couldn't seem to get the words out.

"I'm no doctor," he said quietly, "but I think you should be okay…Scarlett…" his voice trailed off. What could he say? What _was_ there to say? "Is that my child you're carrying?" No, they had been that route before Scarlett had her miscarriage, and there was no way in hell he was reliving any of that. How was he to tactfully breach the subject? Humor. Humor, sarcasm, it had all saved him in the past. "Being as I'm no doctor," he continued, this time lightly, "I could be wrong, but it seems as if you're expecting, Mrs. Butler."

Mrs. Butler. Mrs. Butler. He was Mr. Butler, she was Mrs. Butler…was the baby she was carrying a Butler? God, how he hoped it was. Another baby girl, but different than Bonnie—no one would ever replace his Bonnie.

Playing along with him she replied, "What, can't a woman gain a little weight?" she tried to put an indignant look on her face, but couldn't help the laughter that was bubbling to the surface.

Rhett looked at her strangely. He wasn't used to "good-natured, good-humored" Scarlett. He was used to "tough-as-nails, cynical" Scarlett. Pregnancy this time around must have changed her. She no longer looked tired and worn as she had the night he left her, and she didn't look as determined as she had in Charleston. She, despite having just suffered a loss of consciousness, actually looked happier than he had quite possibly ever seen her. What _was_ this change in Scarlett?

The change Scarlett had overcome was peace with herself. She was happy in Ireland, she had all she wanted: respect for her business sense, friends, money…the only thing she lacked was Rhett, but she had been able to stave off her longing and hunger for him by reminding herself that she was carrying a part of him around with her. But now, seeing him again, her desire was awakened, and rudely so. She wanted to hear him say he loved her, she wanted him to kiss her breathless and senseless so that she felt her knees would buckle, and all this scared her. What was he doing here, she wondered, not for the first time today. Was he here with that dimwitted Anne? If he was Scarlett thought she would cry. Or kill Anne. Either would suffice. She had to know. The giggling stopped as her face straightened and she began to look more like the old Scarlett.

"Why have you come here, Rhett?" she said, finally bringing up the issue that had plagued her since she had seen him at her table.

**A/N: So what'd ya think? Don't you just wanna push the review button? Push it! Give in to your desire! Okay, anyways…reviews make me wanna update, so ya know…**

**Thanks to all my wonderful reviewers who make me happy and wanna update. **


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Ahhh….it's been months! I'm so sorry for not updating this story sooner, I know it's really annoying when authors don't update their stories. Have fun reading and feel free to leave reviews if you want!**

_**Chapter 3**_

He heard the soft pleading in her voice and wondered if she was aware of it and the vulnerable look in her eyes. He doubted it. Scarlett had never been one to open up her heart to others, but this display of emotion seemed heartfelt. She had brought him back to the same question he had been pondering on his way through Ballyhara. If Scarlett was one thing, she was direct. What should he say? He opened his mouth, but no words came. Closing his mouth, he began again.

"Scarlett, I came to tell you that I—"

Rhett was cut off by rapid knocking and the door being pushed open to reveal a stocky red-headed man. Who was this man? Was he—no, he couldn't be, Scarlett's baby was a Butler, it had to be! Scarlett wouldn't marry again, she loved him…didn't she? But he had married Anne while he still loved Scarlett. Why had he been so stupid? He should have just gone after her like she probably had expected him to. But no, he had to go and divorce her. What made the whole situation even worse was that he had almost been solely responsible for things turning out the way they had.

"Oh, beg pardon Scarlett, I wasn't aware you had company," said the still unidentified red-head. The statement left a question hanging in the air, and Scarlett was quick to answer it.

"Oh, Colum, it's fine, this is Rhett…Rhett Butler." She watched Colum's face and waited for the eyebrows to raise and his mind to establish the connection: Scarlett O'Hara…Butler. When she saw that the realization of her words had hit home, she introduced him to Rhett. "Rhett, meet Father Colum O'Hara. He's my cousin."

Rhett inwardly breathed a sigh of relief. Father O'Hara. He was a priest. That meant that he couldn't be the father of Scarlett's baby. But did he know about Scarlett and Rhett, and their past? Rhett could tell by the look in his eyes that he did. He extended his hand to Colum and the two exchanged greetings. Colum, obviously noticing the awkward silence, quickly stated his business. "I just came by to check in on my Katie Scarlett…sorry to interrupt. I can see she's fine, so I'll just be going now," he finished rather uneasily.

"Oh, well, thank you Colum. You really are a dear." Giving Colum a quick hug, she closed the door behind him.

"You really are a dear?" Hardly sounded like Scarlett…possibly because he could tell the words were spoken with sincerity. He wished fleetingly that Scarlett would utter words of love and sentiment to him that were sincere.

"Rhett, I do apologize for the interruption. What were you saying?"

Rhett didn't know if he could still do it. Could he give her the honest reason for his being in Ireland? He had to. It would kill him if he didn't. He couldn't stand the guilt.

"Scarlett, I came to tell you that I," he took a deep breath and finished the sentence, "that I…had some business in Ireland, and happened to hear you were living here now." Damn it! Damn his cowardice. Why couldn't he just tell her the real reason he was here? But no, it appeared as if he couldn't. It appeared as if he would just have to deal with the guilt creeping into his soul.

"Oh." Scarlett replied, looking slightly disappointed. "Well, I'm glad you came by, Rhett. I've missed you."

"And I you," he said solemnly, looking into her eyes, wishing he could tell her just how much he had missed her.

"Yes, well, would you care for tea or something? I think I practically need a pot, myself. Care for a cup?" Her voice shook slightly as she filled up the silence with meaningless conversation.

"Tea would be nice."

---------------------

Why did it always come to this? They were having an important conversation, one which they both needed to have and hear, and now they were talking about tea. If there was a less important topic to be found in the history of conversations, she certainly didn't know what it could be. Scarlett inadvertently slammed the cups onto the rough table, nearly breaking hers. "Oh, God's nightgown," she swore, not for the first time that day, as she spilled her tea all over the table.

"Here, Scarlett, just have mine. I don't really want it anyways," Rhett offered kindly. He pulled the chair out from underneath the table and Scarlett sank heavily down into it. Business. He was here on business. What had she been expecting? Him to gallantly confess his undying love for her? What a fool she had been. But really, he had seemed like he was going to, until Colum had interrupted. Oh well. She tried as best as she could to act normally around Rhett, something that at the moment was proving to be rather difficult due to the strain of trying to keep from reaching out to Rhett and asking him if he loved her, due to the battle raging inside of her about whether or not she should tell him about the baby. Struggling to fend off all impulses, she asked, "What type of business?"

"Business?"

"You said you had business in Ireland."

"Oh yes, that business. It's nothing much, really. I wouldn't want to bore you."

"Have you already forgotten me so much that you must classify me as other ladies who are bored by business ventures?"

"Hardly. Scarlett, I could never forget you."

She was taken aback with the total sweetness of the response, until he finished it somewhat belatedly with, "You've given me too much to laugh about over the years."

Forgetting the fondness for which she had felt for him moments before, she let her pregnant-woman-hormones rage and she herself raged. "Oh, so is that what I am then? A joke?"

"Of course not. Scarlett, you seem to be a little too emotional at the moment. I was referring to the happy times we shared," with equal amounts of misery, he added to himself.

"Over-emotional? Well if I am being 'over-emotional' it's your fault."

"My fault?" Was she admitting that the baby was his?

"Yes, yours. Coming here like this, randomly showing up on my doorstep—"

"Actually, my Pet, I showed up at your kitchen table," he said in jest.

"Oh, just…just…" she made a strangled noise that came from the back of her throat to finish off the thought.

"Eloquently put."

Scarlett again struggled to keep herself in check. Why were they fighting? She wasn't going to waste what little time they had together with this nonsense. "Please, Rhett, let's don't fight. I call a truce. Let's be adults, and carry on a civilized conversation."

"I believe I can do civilized. It's one of my many talents. How is the weather here in Ireland? Fair?"

"Oh, it's beautiful here. Sunny and bright in the summer time, although I've heard that the weather is about to get rather cold and rainy in the winter. This will be my first winter here, so I don't really know exactly for myself."

"I think I understand where the natives are coming from, talking about rain. Take a look outside, Scarlett."

She peered out of the window and saw what he was talking about. The skies were darkening, and the clouds looked positively threatening.

"Now I feel quite the fool."

"Not to worry. I'm sure it was just Mother Nature's way of saying that she is unpredictable. If nothing else it will make walking back towards my horse rather interesting. I believe I left it with a man close to three miles away."

"Oh, that's awful. Rhett, do stay here. I can make you up a nice comfortable spot if you aren't opposed to sleeping on the floor."

"Well, I wouldn't want to impose…"

"Oh, really, Rhett, it's no trouble at all. Besides, if you promise not to tell anyone, it scares me to be alone in a storm. It would be nice to have company."

"Since you insist, I accept. I'd hate to leave you here scared and alone," he said with a small smile playing on his lips. He could hardly picture Scarlett alone and scared.

----------------------------

Rhett lay awake on the floor, listening to the pattering sound of the rain drops reverberating throughout the small house. He liked the rain; it soothed him and helped him to collect his muddled thoughts. He was closing his eyes and was about to drift off into dream land when a small voice joined the chorus of raindrops.

"Rhett?" Scarlett called from her bedroom. "Are you still awake?" She asked quietly.

"Hmm? Oh, yes, I'm awake."

"That's good."

"Why?"

"Oh, I don't know. Couldn't sleep."

"Any special reason? Are you feeling okay?"

There was a pause before she replied, "I'm fine. Just a lot on my mind I guess."

"Need to talk?"

"We are talking."

"I meant about what's bothering you."

"Oh."

Rhett got up off of the floor where Scarlett had placed some blankets and pillows for him to sleep on. It wasn't by a long shot the most comfortable bed he had ever laid in, but it would do. It kept him close to Scarlett. He walked through the small archway that led to her room. Scarlett was sitting in the big bed, looking at Rhett curiously. What was he doing? He climbed up on the bed and sat down next to Scarlett.

"I hope you don't mind. I find it easier to carry on a conversation with someone when we happen to be in the same room," he said, his eyes laughing. "Now, what's on your mind?"

"I don't know. Things. You. Here. But in all honesty, I'd rather not talk about that at the moment."

There was a small silence as the two sat deep in thought. In a small voice, Scarlett broke the silence. "Rhett? Do you think…do you think you could tell me a story? Like when we were first married? I think it would help me sleep," she finished lamely. Truly, she had just missed the sound of his voice.

As Rhett began to tell her a story of how he had outwitted someone or other from somewhere or other while he was doing something or other, Scarlett snuggled closer to him, leaning her weary head and heavy body against his strong chest. She could feel the deep resonance of his voice vibrating in his chest, and was asleep within minutes.

Rhett gradually stopped talking, taking care not to wake the sleeping Scarlett. Looking down at her face, he was struck with her beauty and his love for her. Stroking her hair, he quietly whispered into the dark cottage, "I'm here on the business of loving you."

**  
Hope everyone enjoyed! Reviews would be greatly appreciated. Have a fun and safe weekend!**


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